A Rather Rough Night
by darkbloodylegs
Summary: Light has a sleeping disorder, which makes sharing a bed with L a disaster. But it seems as if our sneaky detective has something up his sleeve to help his suspect! Rated for language and suggestive material.


Light Yagami reclined in the large bed that dominated the even larger room, forcing his muscles, one by one, to relax. He felt a certain irritation when, once he turned his focus on to the next muscle, the ones previous to it quickly took the opportunity to become tense again. It figured—he could control every aspect of his outwards persona, could control every aspect of his _life_, even, yet once he tried to _relinquish _that control, it would snap back into place without his consent.

He fought back the urge to growl with frustration when his calves snapped just as painfully tight as they were earlier. He knew he was being watched; it was kind of hard to _forget, _really, when one became aware that the man behind the lap, who perched atop the mattress beside him, did not have his eyes on the blue screen at all. Oh no; Ryuzaki had eyes only for Light's struggle, his head cocked quizzically, his eagle-eyes drinking in the spectacle before him. Light's irritation was quickly becoming downright anger; was L _enjoying_ this? Light was already uncomfortable enough; this was the first time he had ever shared a bedroom, a _bed_, with an adult man determined to put him in jail for something he _knew _he didn't do.

Light had always suffered from severe tension and cramping during sleep. He was anything but a restful sleeper—he ground his teeth, his hands knotted roughly in the fabric of his sheets, nails carving grooves into his delicate palms, and each muscle became agonizingly tense. He had always speculated that it was due to his obsessive, downright anal retentive, personality. He had been much the same before he discovered the Death Note, and he was the same even now that he had forgotten it. His mind, which commanded his body to _be perfect, everybody's watching, _in the daytime, was too well-trained to ever let his body relax, even in sleep.

He was finally able to force himself into a shallow, lucid sleeping-state, while L looked on, still typing impassively into his laptop which he kept on his kneecaps, perched in his usual crouch, this time on the pillow meant for his head. Light's body remained stiff as a board, even as his eyeballs rolled gently in their sockets.

A few hours passed and L kept reading over the case information, every now and then taking a bite out of the softening cake on his plate, the frosting starting to melt slightly from the very warm bedroom. It only took a second to notice that Light had stopped breathing.

Without thought, L shot to Light's side of the bed, ignoring his laptop as it clattered loudly onto the wooden floor. He grabbed the teenager's shoulders, shaking violently. "Light-kun! Light-kun!" Light's head flopped like a rag-dolls, and he growled. He had woken from the sound of the laptop hitting the floor, before L even touched him. He wheezed for breath. "_Stop, _Ryuzaki!"

Instantly, L released the younger man, sitting back into his normal crouch, this time on top of Light's knees and stomach. This did not serve well in aiding Light to get his breath back, but L made no effort to move, instead watching with his head tilted, a thumbnail habitually popped into his mouth.

Light glared up at the adult who perched on top of him. "What was that all about?"

"You stopped breathing, Light-kun."

This caught the brunette's attention. _Did I really? Or… is this another one of those stupid tests he keeps putting me through?_

Light rolled onto his side, causing L to topple from his perch onto his backside. This struck Light as somewhat humorous; he had never seen the detective lose his balance before. Still, he kept his face straight. "Ryuzaki, I'm tired. Don't go waking me up for stupid reasons." He closed his eyes, hoping that if he pretended to be asleep, the older man would go away.

Apparently this was not the case. Thin fingers pried one of Light's eyelids open, and L brought his face disturbingly close to the brown-eyed boy. "Sleep Apnea is a serious problem, Light-kun."

Light struggled very hard with keeping his temper down. Bringing a hand foreword, he pried the detective's cold fingers from his face. "Ryuzaki. I am _very tired. _I cannot stay up all night like you do. Please let me sleep."

The detective merely looked at Light for a long second, once again popping a thumb into his mouth. Light sighed.

"If it happens again, just make a noise or something. Happy?"

The detective didn't respond, and Light took that as an ascent. Rolling onto his belly, he once again found himself just skimming the surface of sleep. It was a pleasant feeling, like floating on the most gentle of ocean waves, but Light's body didn't lose its tension for one moment. Light dreamed that his face dipped underneath the waves and found himself unable to lift his nose for air. He lashed out violently, a sharp-knuckled fist meeting something soft. He heard a grunt of pain and once again opened his eyes, to find that his hand was buried in the belly of L, who doubled over from the sudden jab.

"Light-kun, _ouch," _was the only reply. "Although I suppose 'once is once' doesn't really apply when it wasn't deliberate…" Light had no idea what the other was talking about and decided he didn't care.

"Sorry." Was his only response, before closing his eyes again…

It felt like only seconds passed before, with a sharp, high-pitched cry, Light sat up quickly. _Fire fire fire… _His left calf felt agonized and his sleepy brain just wasn't _thinking—Think, brain, think! _He commanded himself. _You've had this before! _His eyes streamed as he thought of what to do, but _Ah OW!... _And then a cold grip encased his ankle, stretching his leg out behind him, which seemed to do nothing except make the pain and tension worse _Shit L's trying to kill me! _And then, with a pop, the pain seemed to fade away almost instantaneously. Light sank back, flat on his chest, sweat coating his brow and making his hair stick to his head.

He turned when he felt thumbs dig into his flesh.

"Hey-!" was the only thing he could say. _What the hell… _L merely gave him a look that read clearly "_stay still_." Thumbs continued to dig into the aching flesh, and soon Light felt as if the stiffness were fading. The sore throb remained, but under L's cool hands, even that eventually dimmed. Finally the detective released Light's calf, calmly tugging the pajamas back into place where the leg had ridden up.

Light felt oddly calm, his body almost sinking into the mattress. He had never felt so relaxed in all his life before. He tried to speak and found his words coming out slurred.

"W—wha'ssat, Ryuzaki?"

"'That' was a Charley Horse, Light-kun. And from your unusual sleeping demeanor, I can only gather that you've had them before."

"Yeah… _ugh _I hate those." Although they were not a regular occurrence, the searing, thought-ridding pain woke him up many a night.

"It's because you have a sleeping disorder, Light-kun. You really _should_ get it examined…" at the look Light shot him, L trailed off with "… But it seems that you are not overly fond of doctors?"

_Understatement, _Light thought bitterly. L shook his head, and for a brief moment, Light wondered if that was something the two had in common.

"Then, I suppose, I can help you," the grey-eyed detective decided. Light looked at him uncertainly. _'Help'_? He watched with growing alarm as a small bottle of unscented lotion was pulled from a bedside table drawer. _No, it _couldn't _be… _His eyes widened as a tissue packet was removed as well, and he sat up, eyes open wide. "Ryuzaki!" he was embarrassed to find that his voice left his mouth as a squeak. He felt as if a swarm of bees had been released in his stomach, making it somewhat difficult to talk. To his surprise, the detective let out the smallest of smirks, the eyebrows raising the tiniest bit.

"Light-kun? I was offering you a massage." His face returned to its normal impassive state. Light nearly ground his teeth. _That bastard! If he thinks…! _To his utter mortification, he felt blood well in his cheeks, and he looked away quickly. "Fine. Whatever you want." He made sure his words were clipped and dethatched, to cover up his previous blunder.

He allowed himself to be pushed back onto his stomach, and didn't react as his shirt was quickly, methodicly removed from his body. _It's nothing he hasn't seen before anyway, _he thought, somewhat petulantly, remembering the cameras set up in his bedroom from what felt like a long time ago. He had a harder time remaining detached as his pajama pants were slid from his body, too, leaving him to lie in only his baggy black boxers, stretched across the bed he shared with his temporary coworker.

Cold, slick hands were pressed into the overheated skin of his shoulders, making him jump slightly. He felt L's bony knuckles press into his flesh and held back a hiss of pain. Massages always hurt at first. Dexterous fingers kneaded his body and soon Light found himself growing very heavy, very sleepy. The massage trailed across his body, covering his neck, his arms, his back, and paying particular attention to his legs. Every now and again, L would pause to wipe off his hands with some of the tissues, beginning again with fresh lotion. Light wondered briefly how L got to be so good at this, but soon all thought deserted him. He closed his eyes, merely enjoying the sensation.

When L made to flip him over onto his back, so as to work on his chest, Light complied, limp as a cooked noodle. It took everything he had not to give a rusty purr. He bit his lower lip sharply to keep it in. Skillful hands pressed into his pectoral muscles, the sides of his neck, but Light didn't truly lose it until, after once again cleaning off his hands, L dug his fingers into Light's hair jagged fingernails scratching gently at his scalp. Light groaned and L stopped, curious.

Light's eyes snapped open, horrified, and L's head tilted curiously. "It seems Light-kun enjoys attention to his scalp?" without waiting for an answer, L experimentally dragged his fingers first in corresponding, then opposing circles across Light's head. Light really did purr this time, a loud and rusty motor of a sound. His eyes rolled back in his head somewhat, and he was unable to stop his body from bucking close to L.

"That's _enough, _Ryuzaki!" he finally insisted, moving his body into a smaller ball so as to hide his growing problem.

L gave him a knowing look. "If you say so, Light-kun," came the unaffected, carefree response, and he casually set the bottle of lotion on the nightstand, tossing the used tissues into the wastepaper basket. With one long finger, he switched off the lamp-light and settled in a perch atop his pillow, tucking his face into his arms.

"Well, goodnight, Light-kun!" came the near-cheerful response. It took only seconds for his breathing to become deeper, smoother, though somewhat smothered in his arms.

Light stared out the window, his fists clenched in aggravation, body almost more tense than before with a significantly greater problem making itself known against his thigh.

_If I was Kira, _Light thought darkly, scowling at the moon, _I'd have to kill him._

_Fin_

~.~.~.~.~.

So, I suppose we now know the real reason behind our beloved L's death, ha-ha! (Not that it's a laughing matter—I cried _so hard _the first time I read volume 7…)

This story was inspired by my own sleeping problems, and the fact that I often wake up with Charley Horses. Not a good way to start the day.

Please leave a comment!


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